Running
by Annie2
Summary: Break-out fix; Clark runs to get Lex.
1. Default Chapter

Running  
  
By Annie  
  
Rated: PG13 Summary: Clark runs to get Lex. Disclaimer: Not mine, quoth the Raven. Spoilers: Shattered; Vortex Somebody asked for a breakout fic; sequel to Run. Not necessary to read that one first. Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net  
  
"I don't want you involved in this anymore, Clark!"  
  
The anger in his voice doesn't touch me or even slow me down as I stomp around the barn. Soon, I'll have a trench worn in the floor.  
  
"Dad," I start, but he's terrified for me, for my secrets, my safety. I don't blame him for that, but it's nothing I want to bring into the equation.  
  
He tries to override me, succeeds because I hate arguing with either him or Mom. Hate the aftertaste of disrespect it leaves in my mouth. I love them. That also doesn't enter into the equation.  
  
"This is too dangerous, Clark! You could put yourself, your Mother, all of us, in a lot of danger. We don't want you involved with the Luthors. We never did, and especially now! Can't you see what kind of people we're dealing with?"  
  
I feel the snap of emotion inside as I rise to Lex's defense. "Person, Dad." I correct him quietly. "Just Lionel. He can't hurt me, but he is hurting Lex. What if he never gets better? What if that bastard never lets him out of there?"  
  
He winces at the unaccustomed word I've used, but bastard is the least profane thing I can actually say out loud with regard to Lionel Luthor. The rage I'm stoking inside for Lex's father feels like every sick moment I've ever suffered from exposure to Kryptonite, and I commend myself silently for not having torn the barn down with my bare hands when I got back from Edge's hideout. Then there's that little issue of me leaving him there, alone and exposed, shocked by what he had seen, easy prey for the men who came and dragged him away screaming my name. Almost pulling me out of my hiding place, where I watched them take him, where I was still so panicked I couldn't move.  
  
"It's their business, Clark. Your Mother is in the house almost beside herself with worrying about you. And about us. Is Morgan Edge dead?"  
  
I sigh. "Lex shot him.."  
  
"That's two," he reminds me bitterly, and I stop the pacing abruptly and look him squarely in the eye.  
  
"Half of those men he killed while saving your life."  
  
"Yes, Clark, and we still don't know the full story of what went on between him and Nixon."  
  
"It doesn't matter," I insist. "What matters now is Lex. I have to get him out of there. If you don't know what I'm doing, then you can't stop me, and you can't be blamed either. I have to do this myself. Really, you couldn't stop me anyway."  
  
I can see he's almost at the end of his patience and the yelling will begin in earnest soon. I want to save my time and his breath. He opens his mouth to try another argument, and I'm not listening.  
  
I move in close, face to face, close enough to hug, but we don't.  
  
"I have to do this, Dad. I can't let him there to rot and be driven totally insane by his own Father. I have to go and get him. It's Lex."  
  
I can tell the second he truly understands the determination I feel, the depth of my emotion that won't allow me to listen to reason - his or anyone else's. I can see it move across his face and through his eyes, sense the defeat in the waning tenseness of his body.  
  
He sighs, a barely-there sound in the vastness of the dim barn. "Do you think you can?" he asks in resignation.  
  
"I just have to, so I will." I tell him simply. "They won't know how to stop me. They won't even be able to focus long enough to see me. I just have to make a phone call first."  
  
His hand reaches up to squeeze my shoulder and he looks at me with something more than love. Trust, maybe. Fear, definitely. "I'll help you," he offers, as if there could be no question that he would be at my side. I shake my head.  
  
"No. I can't take a chance trying to superspeed three people out of there. But, thanks. I'll figure out what to tell Lex about how I got in later," I assure him, catching the cautionary look in his eye, still reluctant to tell him about the car. About Lex seeing.  
  
Another squeeze. "Just go see your Mother before you leave. She needs to know you'll be coming home. With or without Lex."  
  
"It will be without," I assure him. "It's not safe for him here, or anywhere in Smallville."  
  
"Where are you going to take him, Clark?" he asks my back as I turn away and head out into the evening sun to go to the house; make my peace with Mom.  
  
"I'm working on that." I tell him, some kind of muddled plan running around in my head.  
  
She's in the kitchen, making pie crust to keep her hands busy, because I know this is something she can do mindlessly.  
  
"Mom," I start, but she holds up a shaky, flour-covered hand to silence me, and I can see the will power she is exerting to stay where she is, to not fly across the room and hold me in her arms protectively. I'm not four years old, and she has been realizing this more and more with every day that passes, every bad decision I make.  
  
"You're going to get him," she says, and it's much more a statement than a question.  
  
"It's Lex," I tell her, as if those two little words will convince her. She moves finally, wiping her hands on her apron and coming around the counter to reach up and touch my face, her gaze searching mine, sad understanding fueling the tears I can see building there.  
  
I blink hard against tears of my own. Her argument might be the single one that could change my mind. She knows this instinctively. She also knows that, deep down, I would never forgive her.  
  
"It's Lex," she nods.  
  
Some amount of hugs and tears later, I find myself in my bedroom, door closed, cordless phone in hand, punching in Chloe's number without even thinking about it. Of course, I know it by heart.  
  
"Clark," she answers quietly, and I know she has checked the Caller ID self-defensively, probably worried about calls from rich, old bastards who might want to know where I am.  
  
"Yea, it's me. Are you okay?" I ask, heart thudding lightly with fear for her. "Is your Dad home?"  
  
"He's here. He's not going out or anything, and neither am I. Not tonight. What happened? My contact in the sheriff's office told me they hauled Lex away. Were you there? You couldn't stop them?"  
  
"No," I tell her softly, fresh guilt and panic surging up, despite my super attempts to quell them. I realize I still haven't told my parents the thing they will be most upset about. Lex knows. "No, Chloe, I couldn't. How's Lana?"  
  
Soft sigh on the other end. "Still sedated, but they think she'll be okay. Are you okay?"  
  
I don't answer. What am I supposed to say? Yea, I'm fine. Big, superpowered, cowardly alien - that would be me. "I have an idea, Chloe. I need you to find something for me."  
  
"What are you going to do, Clark?"  
  
"It's safer if you don't know. Will you just look for something for me?"  
  
It doesn't take Chloe too long to find out what I need to know. I make one more phone call, this one a bit more difficult and uncomfortable, a lot longer; Mom and Dad will have a fit when they see the bill. I can't do anything more from here, so I run to Belle Reve. To Lex.  
  
I watch from the cover of some trees across the road from the main gate. There are lead bars on a lot of the windows, and it makes my x-ray vision even more surreal than it already is, the skeletons appearing and disappearing between the bars. I cringe for the people I can see inside, laying, pacing, banging their heads on walls, tearing something, paper I guess, into little strips. One skeleton is laying on a bed, pounding the wall repeatedly with one hand, the other flung protectively across his eyes and I don't even want to think about what he might be trying to block out.  
  
Lex. Focus on Lex, I tell myself, he's in there somewhere. This won't be quiet and it won't be pretty. The gates open slowly and a long black limousine pulls slowly out of the driveway. I recognize the plates. It's Lionel, and I want to run over and drag him out of the car. My fists clench unbidden and I have to remind myself that I am here for Lex. Lionel isn't going anywhere, and if - when - Lex gets better, I'll let him plot his own revenge.  
  
The limo is barely out of sight before I get back to my scan, and there! No mistake, I would recognize Lex's skeleton anywhere, having looked him over for bruises and broken bones on numerous occasions. Just this morning, in the barn, for instance. First floor; fortune smiles on the brave or something, because I won't have to try to leap out of any high windows with Lex in my arms. I shudder at the thought of Lex in my arms, as a chill of dread creeps down my spine.  
  
I can't fuck this up.  
  
I study the scene. Lex is alone in the room, no guards. From the weird way he is sitting, I know they have him in a strait jacket and I flinch inwardly at how that must feel. I watch people walking up and down hallways, in and out of rooms, and this is better than blueprints, helps me track the way in to Lex and back out again.  
  
I'm anxious and scared; I'm determined and I'll be out of there before the alarms can even start going off. I trace the path again, looking through all the walls. Through the gates, up the drive, through the big front doors, probably locked, but that will mean less than nothing to me. Down that hall, two lefts and into Lex's room, through a wall if necessary. Grab Lex, reverse and I'm out. Fast.  
  
A horrible thought pops into my head; what if Lex doesn't want to come? Or what if he just doesn't want to come with me? This is something I haven't even considered, but I push it away forcibly. Lex is out of there tonight, and if I have to hold him down or tie him into a chair, he'll listen long enough for me to try to explain. Everything.  
  
I take a few deep breaths, close my eyes, see the path and just - go.  
  
Nothing is a deterrent; through the gates, leaving them swinging wide in my wake; through the heavy doors, guard knocked aside in shock; down the halls and one of them ends in a wall-size, one-way window. I can see Lex and it almost stops me in my tracks, but I'm going too fast and I'm too high on adrenaline and desperation; through the one-way glass with a resounding shatter and I've scooped Lex up in my arms before he can even react. Before the glass hits the floor, I'm already out the front doors again, the guard hasn't even had time to get off the floor, and then we're gone, a blur down the highway and I feel him like dead weight in my arms. Lex is frozen in shock, and I hold him against my chest protectively, relief washing through me. I whisper encouraging words to him; "It's me, Lex, it's okay, I've got you, you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you." Desperate words, stolen by my speed, like my unbidden tears, swiped away by the wind before they can fall.  
  
A minute, maybe less, and we're there; an old abandoned factory about twenty miles out of town on Route 5. I go in through a back door, out of sight from the road, and finally stop. I can't release my grip on the wanted burden in my arms, and I suddenly feel the wetness on my face. No wind to dry the tears now.  
  
I'm ahead of schedule, and we have to wait.  
  
It's dark in here; barely any of the moonlight comes inside, and Lex begins to come out of his shocked silence, struggling uselessly against both me and the strait jacket. I lay him on the floor as gently as I can, staying out of the way of his thrashing legs. He's ranting and calling for help. Calling for me.  
  
"I'm here, Lex," I assure him loudly. "I would never leave you there! Be still." I reach down and rip at the strait jacket, shredding the canvas and flinging it away into the dark. I'm not sure what's supposed to be under it, but there isn't anything. Lex is exposed above his waist to the cool air, and I am unable to stifle a gasp at the condition he is in. I'm shredded myself, like the offending canvas. He moans as his arms and shoulders finally relax into a more normal position, and I reach down to run my hands up and down his arms softly, trying to warm him, trying to help the tortured muscles I feel under my fingers. Even in this darkness, I can see the still-healing slashes from his jump through the window at the mansion. I can also see his chest and arms are covered with newer bruises. They weren't gentle with him.  
  
I want to hurt someone.  
  
"Shirt," he's mumbling. "They took your shirt. I wanted it on my skin."  
  
Tears come to my eyes again; the shirt I gave him this morning in the loft, the shirt that was too big for him, so that he had to roll up the sleeves. Made himself look even more childlike and vulnerable as he tried to defend himself, looked even more desperate at the mansion when he begged me tearfully not to let them lock him up.  
  
I strip and give him the shirt I'm wearing now, pulling it on for him as he murmurs softly, remembering this afternoon. "I knew it, I knew there was something. I just knew. You should have told me." Tears on his face then. "Why don't you trust me? You chose me, and then you left me."  
  
I sit on the concrete floor and pull him into my lap, holding him against my chest, hands still running aimlessly up and down his arms, feeling the tenseness there, the fear all through him.  
  
"Sshh, Lex, it's okay, it's going to be all right. I'll never leave you again, I promise." I whisper against the cool, bruised skin of his head, brushing my lips there to comfort him and he moans and tries to lean further into my arms. I feel the tears that slide down his face and land on my bare arms, and I pull him in even closer. I kiss his eyelids carefully, I want to stop his tears, don't want them to see him like this when they get here. Don't want them to see my tears either.  
  
"I'm going to help you, Lex. I found someone. Someone I think we can really trust. Someone who doesn't like Lionel. We'll get you better, and then I'll tell you everything. Every single thing. Just - try to stay with me here," I plead with him as I rock him gently in my arms.  
  
"Never leave you," he mumbles. "Never go so far you can't call me back," he promises distractedly, and I wonder if he is talking about distance or sanity. He moans softly.  
  
"Julian is dead, you know."  
  
I brush a hand gently across his forehead. "Yes, Lex, I know. You told me, remember?"  
  
He sighs. "It was my fault. Dad says I loved him too much, and I killed him."  
  
A simple statement, so matter-of-fact, and it takes my breath away and makes hate grow in my heart. Lex is crying again, and I wipe the tears away, strangely tempted to lick them from my fingers. Taste Lex.  
  
"I don't believe you can love someone too much, Lex. I'm sure your Father is wrong."  
  
Lex seems suddenly lucid, reaching up to lay a hand against my cheek possessively. "My Father is wrong about a lot of things, Clark, but not this. You can love someone too much."  
  
The glow of headlights approaching, slowing down and then being turned off, distracts him.  
  
"Someone's coming," he reacts fearfully, and I hold him tighter, because I can feel the tenseness building in his body, feel him wanting to bolt.  
  
"It's all right," I assure him. "They're here to help."  
  
"Who, Clark? Who did you call?"  
  
I take a deep breath, unsure what his reaction will be.  
  
"I remembered, a long time ago, you told me you used to be friends with Bruce Wayne. I know he has lots of money. You said he never liked your Father. I called him today, told him what was happening. I asked him to come and take you under his protection, have you admitted to Arkham Asylum under the care of a doctor he knows, to do tests and prove you were drugged, and to prove that you're sane. He said he'd come right away tonight and get you. You told me once that he was one of the few people in the world you trusted."  
  
Lex laughs shortly. "You called Bruce? Bruce Wayne? And he came immediately? How persuasive were you, exactly?"  
  
I never answer him, as we hear the door open slowly.  
  
"Mr. Kent?" comes the voice I recognize from the phone call earlier.  
  
"Over here. I've got him." I reply quietly.  
  
Bruce Wayne walks over to us in the darkness, flanked by two other men. He ignores me, bending his dark head down toward Lex.  
  
"Are you all right, Lex? What has he tried to do now?" he asks, and I know he is referring to Lionel.  
  
I study him from the corner of my eye, reluctant to release Lex from my hold on him, not trusting him to remain lucid for very long and afraid he will run. I can catch him, of course, but I don't want him to get hurt, and I don't want Bruce Wayne to see me using my powers. One curious millionaire is more than enough.  
  
He's very tall, dark-haired and handsome, and I can tell he spends more time brooding than he does smiling, simply by his demeanor.  
  
Lex waves his question away. "You know Lionel. Anything for a laugh. He's probably laughing his ass off as we speak."  
  
"Not for long," Bruce states grimly. "I've made all the arrangements," he says, turning his somber attention to me now. "I have a doctor ready to see Lex as soon as we get back to Gotham City. Lex will be in a room well away from the regular inhabitants of the Asylum, and he will be under guard at all times, for his own protection. Everyone on the staff has been alerted that Lionel Luthor is to be given absolutely no information, per Lex's request. Also, The Batman has agreed to do regular sweeps of the Asylum, to watch for any unusual activity." He speaks to Lex now, softer, a bit less authoritatively. "Are you ready, Lex? I don't want the limo out there too long, attracting unwanted attention."  
  
Bruce turns to the two men behind him. "Help him out to the car."  
  
"No," I object immediately. No way Lex would want these men to see that he needs help.  
  
"I can walk," Lex insists, climbing to his feet, with a lot of help from me that I manage to disguise as only a minimum of assistance. "I'll go out with you," I tell him, putting an arm around his thin waist.  
  
"Please tell them to make sure he eats," I ask Bruce quietly, and he nods, turning to bring up the rear as we head for the door slowly. I can feel the strain in Lex, fighting against the bruises, his achy arms and legs, his overall weakness from the last week or so of not eating or sleeping properly.  
  
"Wait," Lex stops walking, pulling back, seemingly afraid to go through the door.  
  
"Lex?"  
  
"Your shirt. It's cold out. You need it back."  
  
I almost sigh. Lex is retreating again, and I offer up a silent prayer for the drugs to clear out of his system soon.  
  
"It's okay, Lex. I don't need it. You keep it."  
  
He looks incredibly sad. "They'll take it away. When they put on the other one."  
  
I turn back to look at Bruce pointedly. "He needs to keep the shirt," I insist. "And tell them, no strait jacket."  
  
"Don't worry, Lex," Bruce vows seriously. "No one is going to take your shirt. And there will be no strait jacket."  
  
Lex starts walking again, leaning into my arm slightly, and when we get to the limo, I am reluctant to break the connection, keeping my hand on his arm until he has settled back against the soft leather and Bruce has gotten into the back seat with him from the other side.  
  
"You're not coming, Clark?" he asks, a bit confused, I think.  
  
"I can't Lex. I'll be watched. The news of your escape is probably all over town and Metropolis by now. I'll have to stay at home, do some normal stuff for a few days. As soon as I can, I'll zip away and come to see you." I raise my eyebrow slightly when I say 'zip', and from the look on Lex's face I almost think he is going to actually giggle with glee.  
  
His hand is on my cheek again, and I think it's becoming my favorite feeling in the universe.  
  
"I didn't imagine it, did I?" he asks pleadingly, and I would cut out my tongue before I would lie to him at this moment.  
  
"No, Lex, you didn't imagine it."  
  
He smiles brilliantly, one of those rare, genuine smiles he usually only has for me. He leans in closer to my face conspiratorially.  
  
"I won't tell anyone," he promises in a whisper. "Except Julian,"  
  
"Thank you, Lex," I manage around the huge lump in my throat, giving Bruce Wayne a glance, seeing the understanding in his eyes.  
  
"We'll take the best care of him. We'll see you in a few days, then?"  
  
I nod, moving away from the hand on my face regretfully. "As soon as I can," I reply, stepping away from the limo and closing the door, unable to see Lex anymore behind the tinted glass  
  
I stand beside the road, untouched by the chill in the night air, wondering what terrible revenge Lex will plot against his Father when all this is over. Wondering if the vengeance will ultimately ruin Lex or save him.  
  
All I have to hope now is that I've done the right thing; that I've called the right person for help. In any case, I know that by day after tomorrow, I'll be superspeeding my way to Gotham City. To Lex.  
  
For now, I run home. 


	2. Running Interference

Running Interference  
  
By Annie  
  
Rated: PG-13 Summary: Lex is in Arkham Asylum and Lionel is not pleased; sequel to Run and Running. Disclaimer: Still not mine. ( Spoilers: Assume all, up to and including Shattered Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net  
  
I'm out in the barn doing chores when Dad finds me. It's not even daylight yet, and he knows I couldn't sleep.  
  
"No sleep last night, Son?" he asks, leaning under the hood of the truck to watch me needlessly cleaning battery cables.  
  
"I did sleep," I tell him. "I had bad dreams. About Lex in the asylum and how they beat him up."  
  
"Did they?" he wants to know worriedly, reaching for the dipstick to check the oil, joining in with my self-imposed odd jobs.  
  
"There were lots of bruises. New ones, that he didn't have when he was here."  
  
A raised eyebrow, questioning.  
  
I glance at him sideways. "That was my shirt Lex was wearing. His was all torn and bloody, so I gave him one of mine. He didn't have those particular bruises then. They took the shirt off when they put him in the strait jacket."  
  
"You got the strait jacket off?" he asks quietly.  
  
Rueful smile. "I shredded it. He didn't have a shirt on under it, and that's how I saw the bruises."  
  
He freezes. "You shredded it. Lex saw you do that?"  
  
I stand then, slamming down the hood of the truck, facing him in the morning quiet of the barn.  
  
"It doesn't matter. Lex knows. Lex had it all figured out, even before I shoved him out of the way of Edge's car and stopped it from hitting him."  
  
Disbelief and dismay on his face now, at this news. "Clark, how could you be so.."  
  
"Honest?" I interrupt him. "I'm tired of lying all the time, Dad. I'm tired of lying to Lex. Wanna know what his reaction was? He said he knew it all along. He knew that I'm not human. He looked like it was the best present anyone had ever given him."  
  
He wants to argue with me, but I don't let him speak.  
  
"And you know what I did, Dad? The freak alien sent to rule the planet? I ran away! I ran and hid and I watched them come and drag him away like some rabid dog, yelling my name till they shoved him into the back of a van, took him to an insane asylum, knocked him around and left him in a padded cell wearing a strait jacket. I'm a hero."  
  
I kick a wrench I have left on the dirt floor and it whooshes through the back wall of the barn and out of sight. He's reaching out to touch me, calm me down, and the last thing I want to do is calm down. I'm ready to fly out of my skin with worry, and I don't know how I'll be able to wait till tomorrow to go to Gotham City. I want to pick up the phone and call the private number Chloe found for me yesterday, hear Bruce Wayne assure me that Lex is all right. That Lionel hasn't found him yet.  
  
Lionel isn't in Gotham City, because before my Dad can get a word out, the man himself is striding into the barn, blocking some of the dawn light seeping in.  
  
"Mr. Kent!" he's bellowing, walking like he owns the place and deserves an immediate reply. Dad motions for me to stay still and walks out into the center of the barn to meet him.  
  
"Mr. Luthor! What brings you here at this time of morning?"  
  
Lionel stops right in front of Dad, not backing down from the challenging stance my Father has taken.  
  
"I am looking for your interfering son!" Lionel tells him belligerently.  
  
I step away from the truck, force myself to look him in the eye bravely. I know he can't hurt me, and I am so angry with him, I welcome the possibility of an argument.  
  
"What have you done with Lex?" I demand. "Where is he?"  
  
He starts to smile, then looks down at the dirt beneath his expensive shoes for a moment to wipe it away. Looks up at me again.  
  
"Such a smooth liar for one so young. Tell me, Jonathan, how you managed to raise such a deceitful child."  
  
I move to get closer, and Dad's hand on my arm stops me. "I'm not a child." I declare quietly. "I'll show you."  
  
He glares. "Spare me the theatrics at this ungodly hour of the morning, please. My son was abducted from the hospital last night, and I want to know where he is!"  
  
I smile widely and I can see that it infuriates him. "Lex broke out? Good for him!" I tell Lionel smugly.  
  
Dad's hand, still on my arm, tightens warningly. "Clark," he cautions me quietly, feeling the tense anger strumming through my body, the effort I'm putting out to stay calm.  
  
He turns to Lionel then. "If someone really has 'abducted' Lex, it wasn't my son. Clark was home all last night, with us."  
  
Lionel's serene demeanor belies the wrath I can see in his eyes. "I see," he says, quietly, "If this is how you want it, then so be it. I will locate my son, and when I do, I'm sure he'll have an interesting tale to spin when he tells me how he was taken. This will remain unfinished business between us, Mr. Kent. Young Mr. Kent."  
  
He almost turns to go, but his gaze brushes past us to the recently- acquired hole in the back wall of the barn. "I see you've sustained a slight amount of damage there. You should see to it before it gets more - expensive. I'll be expecting to hear from one of you - soon!"  
  
He turns on his heel and stalks rigidly out of the barn. I force myself not to follow him out, toss him down the driveway a bit.  
  
"Where's Lex? " Dad asks seriously. "Clark, if you have him stashed somewhere and there's no one to help him, things may get a lot worse."  
  
"Lex is being well taken care of," I reply, and I tell him about last night, beginning to end.  
  
He sighs. "I just hope we haven't gotten in over our heads."  
  
The day passes torturously slowly, and as soon as it gets dark, I call Bruce Wayne's private number. There's no way I can wait through another night without seeing Lex for myself, making sure he's all right. Bruce wants me to wait, of course.  
  
"But is he all right?" I demand.  
  
Quiet on the other end for a second or two, and I can almost see him, picturing him at a desk in a dim room, contemplating mergers and acquisitions like Lex does.  
  
"He was actually fairly coherent today. He has been asking for you. We told him you'd come tomorrow night, but it's just possible seeing you would be good for him, ground him a bit more."  
  
"Then I'm coming tonight," I decide, relieved that Lex sounded better.  
  
"I'll send the helicopter for you," Bruce offers, as if it's the most natural means of transportation in Kansas.  
  
"Umm, that's okay, thanks. I already have a ride." I'm almost smiling as I hang up the phone and dash out the front door. I only have one short stop to make on my way through town.  
  
When I finally get to Gotham City and see Arkham for the first time, I am amazed at the sheer, imposing look of it. Huge thing, made of dark stone, with towers and turrets, weird shapes all over and I wonder exactly what kinds of criminals are locked in here, and then realize I really don't want to know. All I want to know is that Lex is far away from them and safe. The guard at the huge gates makes a phone call when I present myself, and after several long, uneasy minutes, he opens the gate and motions for me to go inside. I am met at the door by an orderly.  
  
"Mr. Kent. I'm Thomas. You got here very quickly. Mr. Wayne called and told us you were coming. Mr. Luthor is resting at the moment, but you can wait in his visitor room. He has the special suite, and the visitor room is very nice. Soothing for both the patients and their families." He is leading me away down a long, sky-blue hall as he speaks, and I try not to glance sideways at the little windows in all the doors we are passing.  
  
"Did anyone tell him I was coming?" I ask, growing more worried with every step closer to Lex, afraid of what I might find and grasping tenaciously at Bruce Wayne's encouraging words on the phone.  
  
Thomas looks back at me without missing a step. "Mr. Wayne said not to tell him. He said it might make him more anxious if he was waiting for you. Mr. Wayne also said to tell you he's on his way here, as well. He's very worried about Mr. Luthor."  
  
I notice that we're passing a long stretch of hallway without doors, and have apparently gone beyond the regular resident rooms. We come to a plain wooden door at the end of the hall. Thomas pulls out a huge ring of keys and unlocks it, stands with his hand on the knob before he opens it.  
  
"Mr. Luthor has been very good today. He's had the quickest turnaround we've ever seen in 24 hours. If he was being drugged, then the supply has been cut off since yesterday morning, according to what Mr. Wayne has told us. That's almost forty-eight hours. Enough time for a lot of the drug to leave his system. The tests haven't all come back yet, so we don't know what he was given. Also, he doesn't seem to be having any withdrawal symptoms. Not yet, anyway. The biggest problem he's had today was looking for you."  
  
He finally opens the door and takes me into what looks like a nice living room, minus windows, and with a more institutional-looking door on the far wall. No window in that door either.  
  
"This is a common room?" I ask. "Or Lex's?"  
  
"Just Mr. Luthor's, for now." Thomas heads for the other door, selecting yet another key from his collection. "I'm going to go in and make sure he's awake, and I'll tell him you're here. Best not to have surprises. The security cameras in this room are turned off, by the way. Instructions from Mr. Wayne. Also, there is a phone over on the table. Just dial 'O' if Mr. Luthor needs anything, or if you want to leave. Or if anything happens."  
  
Thomas disappears into the next room, closing the door behind him, and I begin to pace nervously, not wanting to contemplate what the orderly might have meant by 'if anything happens.'  
  
After what feels like hours, the door opens slowly and Lex is there, unsmiling. My heart drops.  
  
"Lex, are you all right? They aren't hurting you, are they?"  
  
Lex walks slowly across to the small sofa, doesn't take his eyes off me as he does, and settles into the soft cushions carefully, mindful, I think, of the bruises he still bears.  
  
"I'm better, Clark. I have you to thank for that." Small sardonic smile then. "Always trying to save me, aren't you?"  
  
"I couldn't leave you there, Lex. You know I couldn't." I make my way over to join him, sitting as far away as the small sofa will allow. "I brought you something," I try cheerily, reaching into my shirt and pulling out the comic book. "Warrior Angel, just out today. I got it in town on my way here. I know you get two issues delivered to the mansion, but I thought you might not want to wait till you get home."  
  
I offer the comic book like some kind of ritual, redemptive sacrifice, atoning for all my sins. Those sins of omission I have committed by not telling Lex. By letting him find out in the worst possible way that I have been lying to him.  
  
"Thank you, Clark," Lex says, voice cool and smooth, like he's talking to a stranger, and my pulse quickens nervously.  
"So," he continues, glancing over the garish cover and then laying it gently on the table beside the sofa. "You arranged a breakout? Ignored the legalities and just - came and took me away."  
  
I try a small smile, try to get one in response. I don't.  
  
"You told me once, Lex, that darker times call for darker methods. I couldn't leave you there. Your father would have won. Darius admitted they drugged the scotch. You were right all along."  
  
"I was, wasn't I?" he replies. "I was right about him. I was right about you."  
  
I look down at my hands in my lap, see they are trembling and try to make them stop. Unsuccessfully.  
  
"Yes. You were, Lex, but.."  
  
Anger flares in his eyes, and I almost welcome it, see it as a sign that he still has emotions where I'm concerned. "No, buts, Clark," he insists, agitated. "What did you think I would do if you told me the truth? Make you my personal lab rat?"  
  
"Your father..." I start, but he's venting now, wants and needs to let himself go for a few minutes, and I decide to let him.  
  
"My father wouldn't get anywhere near you! I would protect you. From him. From the world. I have the means to do that, and I would do it, more willingly than you could ever know, and still, not one word. Not one tiny word from you! I've been a patient man, Clark, but there's a limit even for me!"  
  
He's standing up now, all but pacing in front of me, and I stand to face him, blood rushing through me with the fear of losing him forever. Losing Lex.  
  
"Your father had refined meteors in his safe in Metropolis. He had the key to the ship that brought me here, and he had a secret file that I destroyed. Those meteors, the green ones - Lex, they can kill me! They're the only things that can hurt me physically, and your dad had about a ton of them, all saved up! Don't you think I might be afraid to let my secrets out around him? Around you, too? He bugged the mansion, Lex! He could have heard anything. Could have seen anything when he was pretending to be blind!"  
  
Lex smirks. "He is a bastard, isn't he? Regardless, I am not my father. I'm angry; more than that I'm disappointed that you didn't think you could trust me enough with all this. Better if Dad doesn't know, you're right about that, because if he has anything to do with it, they're going to lock me up and throw away the key. God knows what he'd do with you."  
  
I shake my head. "No, I won't let them lock you up. I know the truth. I can break you out of anywhere."  
  
Lex smiles at my show of bravado. "Out of anywhere except a meteor- lined room. Don't ever let that little secret out, Clark. Even with my resources, I'm not sure we could dispose of every single piece of green meteor on the planet."  
  
I latch onto the 'we' like the drowning man I am.  
  
"Lex, please, I'll tell you everything. I don't want to fight."  
  
Lex sighs. "I don't want to fight, either, Clark. I just don't see how I can ever really trust you. I've never had a best friend. I'm not sure keeping secrets is the way it's done."  
  
"I'm not going to try to make up excuses, here, Lex, but you have to understand. I was raised every day to hide my gifts, had it drummed into me over and over how dangerous it would be for people to find out. Lana doesn't even know."  
  
His eyes steel over briefly. "I'm not Lana. She can't protect you. She can't do anything for you. Not like I can."  
  
I get the sudden, uneasy feeling that he's not talking about simple protection, and I feel a warm flush racing through me, wonder if he remembers last night in the factory when I held him and tried to kiss his tears away. Somehow, he knows.  
  
"So, none of it was an hallucination," he says quietly. "I thought I might have been dreaming; Edge's car; the factory last night. But then I woke up this morning and I was still wearing your shirt." He picks his arms up needlessly to show me my own shirt, the almost-twin of the one they took from him in Belle Reve.  
  
He's looking at his hands, peeking halfway out of the blue shirt that's way too big on him. "I fought them for the other one, you know." He's telling me, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to care about a shirt. "I tried to keep it, and they wouldn't allow it. I managed to hang onto it a lot longer than they thought I could, but in the end they got it away from me. I was outnumbered, you see." He looks up at my face then, and I can see the lingering desperation there, his need to believe in something. In himself. In me.  
  
"The shirt's too big, Lex. You need to roll those sleeves up a bit more," I advise him lightly, wanting him to focus on what he has, not on what they've taken away.  
  
He looks down briefly, then brings his eyes up again to meet mine, holds his arms out toward me. A gift of trust.  
  
"Do it for me, Clark. It is your shirt, after all."  
  
I reach out and pull his right arm closer to me, heat from his skin brushing along mine as I roll up the sleeve slowly, watching what I'm doing, afraid that if I look up now he'll see everything there is to see. How much I feel for him, and fear for him. I feel his eyes on me, and he's standing perfectly still, barely even breathing. I touch the underside of his wrist momentarily when I'm done, mad beat of his pulse on my fingers, and then reach for his other arm, repeat the motions.  
  
We're standing in a locked visitor's room in an asylum. All I'm doing is rolling up the sleeves on a too-big shirt. It feels like the most intimate moment of my life.  
  
When I'm done I raise my head slowly to look at him, fading bruises unable to hide the Lex who is my best friend. The desperation is gone from his eyes, and I see only heat there, almost take a step closer but stop myself in time.  
  
"Lex, I should go home. It's getting late."  
  
"You should. Your parents will be worried. Will you come back?"  
  
"Of course I will. Maybe you'll go home soon. They said you're much better already."  
  
"Oh, I will be going home soon, Clark." Lex replies. "When I do, you'll tell me everything. And then we'll start over."  
  
"We will," I assure him eagerly. "I want to. But I do have get going now."  
  
I punch the O button on the phone and ask to be let out of the room. Thomas will be there momentarily, they tell me. I go and wait by the door, not trusting myself to stand too close to Lex anymore tonight. He picks up the Warrior Angel comic from the table.  
  
"Thanks for this, Clark. I can read it in bed tonight. Might help me sleep, knowing the world is safe from villains for another month." He laughs and I realize how much I want my Lex back.  
  
"No problem. Maybe I'll call you tomorrow and you can let me know what happened in the story."  
  
The door opens and Thomas is holding it for me to leave. " 'Night, Lex." I tell him.  
  
He stops me as I am walking out.  
  
"Clark. I know what my Father is doing. To you and to me. I will stop him, I promise you."  
  
"I know you will, Lex," I tell him, wondering, as the door closes and locks again behind me, just what the cost of that will be to Lex himself.  
  
Thomas makes some kind of idle chatter as we head down the long hallway again, but as we near the entrance to the asylum, we hear voices raised in argument. I recognize one of them, and groan inwardly.  
  
Lionel is as good as his word; somehow he has already found Lex.  
  
It's quite obvious as we approach that Lionel is demanding entrance and is being adamantly refused.  
  
"Mr. Luthor is an adult; he has the right to refuse to see anyone," a doctor is in the middle of saying when Lionel spots us coming down the hall. He brushes past the man rudely and heads in my direction.  
  
"I'll have you brought up on charges of kidnapping, young man. You'll never see that pathetic farm or even the light of day again if I have anything to say about it!"  
  
Lionel is irate, and I almost laugh. All his plans, foiled by a simple farmboy. I stop walking deliberately and make him come to me if he wants to get any closer. He won't be brushing by me quite as easily as he did the doctor. From the way the argument has already escalated, he must have been here for some time.  
  
"I never kidnapped Lex," I tell him simply.  
  
"My son is not in his right mind! He needs my help!"  
  
"He's getting lots of help right here. He has a very good doctor who says he's already getting better. You should be glad. You are, aren't you?" I ask innocently, meeting his angry gaze evenly. I won't budge.  
  
"Doctors!" He snorts in derision. "Willing to sway their medical opinions in favor of the highest bidder!"  
  
"Not the doctors here, Luthor!" a deep voice interrupts us, and we both turn to see a fantastic sight coming our way from a cross corridor.  
  
Batman. The actual Batman. All dark menace and as tall as me, drifting toward us like his feet aren't even touching the floor, long cape fluttering behind him as he walks.  
  
"What the hell?" I hear Lionel mutter under his breath. All his bluster seems to desert him, and I can see why. At that moment, I am very glad I'm not the one causing all the uproar.  
  
"Mr. Kent," Batman nods his leather-cowled head in my direction. I'm speechless. I can't wait to tell Mom and Dad. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"Just a tiny one," I shrug, looking pointedly at Lionel.  
  
He turns to Lionel then, making himself more threatening somehow, it rolls off him in waves, a don't-fuck-with-me-I-don't-care-who-you-are attitude. I have to admit, I'm impressed. I want to drag him back down the hall to show Lex.  
  
"Mr. Luthor," he says, not nearly as cordially as he spoke to me. "The doctors here are the finest Gotham City has to offer. If they say your son has improved, then he has indeed improved. They tell me he may be released as soon as the end of the week."  
  
Lionel is bristling with rage. "I won't allow it! The boy can't take care of himself or his affairs."  
  
"Lex is under my protection now. You're in my city. Our specialists say he's perfectly competent. Or will be shortly. Their biggest recommendation to him was that he eat and drink everything from sealed containers. To prevent a relapse."  
  
I almost laugh out loud at the poisonous glare Lionel shoots Batman for that remark. "I'll be watching out for him, too, when he gets home." I assure Lionel. "I may even sleep over for a week or so. Make sure he's taken care of."  
  
"Go home to Mommy and Daddy, Clark." He says, in attempted dismissal, but he knows I won't leave as long as he's still here. He turns back to Batman.  
  
"I demand to see my son." He says, dangerously calm.  
  
Batman raises his strong chin minutely, looking at Lionel as if he's examining a bug display or something. "You can't see him. His decision." He informs Lionel with finality.  
  
"My son is not competent to make any decisions!" Lionel argues.  
  
"Unproven," Batman snaps. "Turn around, go out the door, get back in your limousine and go back to Metropolis." His leather-covered hands flex at his sides, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by Lionel or myself.  
  
"Take off that mask," Lionel demands. "I won't be kept from my own son by a leathered-up coward." He reaches up quickly, intending to try ripping it off Batman's head, I think, but a black-clad hand streaks out and stops him, gripping his wrist tightly. I smile, despite valiant efforts not to.  
  
"The mask stays." Batman says. "You don't. Do you need me to escort you out?"  
Lionel wrests his arm from the strong grip and stands tall, enmity coming off him and surrounding both of us. "I'm leaving now. You can't keep me from my son forever." He turns to me, and smiles chillingly.  
  
"I'll be seeing you, Clark." He says, as if we are friends. He turns and walks away stiffly, without another word, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I suddenly remember who is standing next to me. I turn and hold out my hand.  
  
"Clark Kent," I introduce myself, although he knows this already.  
  
He shakes my hand firmly. "Good to meet you. I hear Lex speaks very highly of you. That's good enough for me."  
  
"Thanks for sticking up for him. Lionel has been, well, vicious lately."  
  
"Lionel Luthor has been vicious all his life. I've seen the struggles Lex has gone through with him. Now that Lex is older and has resources of his own, I think Lionel is in for a nasty surprise."  
  
"I think you're right. This was really great, to meet you like this, but I really have to get home. I thought Bruce Wayne was coming, but I guess he changed his mind."  
  
"Detained by business, no doubt. You know how it is with these millionaires," he says, almost irreverently. "Do you have a way back to Smallville?"  
  
"I'm good," I reply, knowing I can get there even before Bruce Wayne's helicopter. "Will I see you here again?"  
  
"You very well may. Now that Lionel knows Lex is here, I'll be keeping an even closer watch over the place. No need to worry about Lex in your absence," he assures me.  
  
"I see that I don't have to. Say hi to Mr. Wayne for me if you see him."  
  
We shake hands again briefly and he is off, disappearing down the dark hallway, cape swirling around behind him like loyal black fog.  
  
I've met The Batman. Things might be okay between Lex and me after all.  
  
I head outside, back out through the big iron gates. Lionel's limo is nowhere to be seen, even with x-ray vision.  
  
I can't wait to get home, and I take off running. 


	3. Running on Empty

Running On Empty  
  
By Annie  
  
Rated PG-13 Summary: Lex POV of the Running series; what's running through his head after he sees Clark at Arkham? Disclaimer: Not mine. Spoilers: Shattered Feedback: yearned for crehnert@ptd.net  
  
I have nothing.  
  
I have Clark. Well, I did. Then I didn't. Now I do again. I think.  
  
I stand in the middle of the visitor's room, just where I've been standing since he walked out the door. My mind's jumbled, and very vulnerable of late, apparently. I'm having a hard time separating what I think is reality from what I think is hallucination.  
  
At least I think I am.  
  
Julian's real. No, Julian was real. He's not real anymore. Not real since I covered him up to keep him warm. The blanket didn't keep him warm anyway. Mother kept screaming about how cold he was. I did explain. I tried to help. I don't think she understood.  
  
This is real. This here. I think.  
  
But the big thing - the Other thing. Was it real? Did I see it? Or fabricate it in my undependable memory? If I imagined it, that means Clark deserted me - never tried to find me after I ran from the stables. Or maybe he just couldn't.  
  
If it was real, that means Clark deserted me. Ran away and let them drag me away calling for him, desperate for him. Was I really at Edge's? If I was there - if he tried to run over me - then it was all real.  
  
Either way; he deserted me.  
  
He came back for me.  
  
I'm confused, fogged inside. Prickly flashes of memory, true and false, race through my muddled mind.  
  
I didn't imagine that Clark came and took me. Or am I imagining that I'm here? Seems real enough. Room looks nice, food's good. No one is kicking me around and hey, I get to keep the shirt this time.  
  
Or else I'm having a pleasant dream, and I'm still bound by that strait jacket.  
  
I raise my arms, expecting resistance and relieved to feel none; bring the newly-cuffed sleeves closer to my face and close my eyes. I can still smell him, the clean, Clark scent of him, the smell of Martha-fresh laundry still lingering in the soft blue fabric I'm wearing. I can still feel the heat of his hands near my flesh, and my pulse quickens just like it did when he was still in the room.  
  
I wrap my arms around myself - shield myself with Clark's shirt sleeves, so comforting after the memory of the other, imprisoning garment. Keep my eyes closed and imagine him still in the room, still with me. Not deserting me.  
  
He deserted me. No, He came back.  
  
I open my eyes and reach for the Warrior Angel comic on the table. Flip the pages briefly to reassure myself it's real. I read the tagline that runs across the bottom of every Warrior Angel comic book cover; 'Strange visitor from another planet who protects the innocent...'  
  
Am I Devilicus? How apt.  
  
It is real.  
  
It's all real.  
  
I have nothing.  
  
No, I have Clark.  
  
I'll be going home soon.  
  
My bastard of a father better start running now. 


	4. Running Mates

Running Mates  
  
By Annie  
  
Rated: R Summary: Lex is home from the Asylum; he and Clark make plans and amends. Spoilers: Assume all episodes Disclaimer: Still not mine; Bad Santa. ( Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net  
  
"I owe you two shirts," I hear as Mom hands me the phone with a bemused smile on her face.  
  
It's been four days, and I haven't been able to bring myself to go back to Arkham again. I'm not afraid of Lex; I have been missing Lex more than I can even admit to myself, and I feel inside that we'll be able to iron out everything that's between us. What frightens me is running into Lionel again. One tiny little loss of my control and he'd be on his way into space or something.  
  
"Lex!" I reply happily, and I can feel the goofy grin on my face, can't stop it even with super willpower. Mom lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes lightly before she walks away, gives me a confidence in the rightness of things somehow. "I didn't think they'd let you use the phone."  
  
"Unless my father has taken over completely in my absence, it's still my phone, Clark. I'm home."  
  
"At the penthouse? Can you have visitors?" I ask anxiously.  
  
Almost-silent snicker on the other end. "I'm at the mansion, Clark. And not only am I allowed visitors, I've been encouraged to be sociable. Will you be able to come over later? Or are there problems?"  
  
I understand he's talking about the fact that he knows some of my secrets. I know he's worried about my parents' reactions. He doesn't need to worry, and I tell him as much. "It's my secret, not theirs," I add. "I'm not going to protect myself anymore at the risk of anyone that I care about."  
  
Silence for a few awful moments, and I think he's gone off into fantasy- land again. "Lex?"  
  
"I'm still here. Clark, that's a face-to-face conversation. I don't completely trust things here at the moment. I have a team coming in tomorrow morning to sweep the entire place for electronics. I've also bought a new supply of Scotch. So, when can you get here?"  
  
I'm grinning again, and I'm glad I got the chores finished at superspeed today so I could study with Pete and Chloe at the Talon. I don't think they're going to like being second choice, but I don't much care right now.  
  
"Couple of minutes," I tell Lex. "Is that good?"  
  
"Better than good," he tells me, and I hang up to call Chloe quickly, tell her Lex is home, cancel my place at the study session. She's telling me she's glad he's home, but I'm saying good-bye and hanging up before she can get it all out.  
  
I race to Lex's place faster than I've ever gone anywhere and stop in front of the mansion at the sight of the black limo parked there. My heart thuds in panic until I realize it's not Lionel's but Bruce Wayne's.  
  
Big man in a black suit standing at the front door, looking like he's been waiting for me. He opens the door for me and motions me inside, and I hear the lock going on after I'm in. Bruce's man from the car, I'm thinking, although Lex needs to get some security of his own. Someone he can trust.  
  
Me. Because I'll never desert him again.  
  
I find Lex in the office. I don't even look around for Bruce, because my eyes go instantly to the big glass desk, to where I know Lex will be waiting. He gets up as soon as he sees me, and I feel my heart beat a bit faster as he comes around the desk to meet me. He's smooth as silk, self- possessed, and I'm wasted by the way he moves toward me, fluid, masterful. My Lex is back.  
  
He reaches out as if he wants to shake my hand, so I extend mine, too, startled then to find myself pulled into his personal Lex-space, the second time we've hugged each other in joyful welcome in the last few months.  
  
"Clark," he says quietly, the relief a palpable aura around us. "Thank you."  
  
For deserting you? I want to ask, but he suddenly releases me and backs away. "Bruce drove me home. I wanted to surprise you." Lex heads back to his desk.  
  
I follow him, because I can't seem to do anything else. "Are you all right? I would have come for you."  
  
Lex raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly at my statement, covers it up with a small smile as he sits back down. "I know that, Clark, but as I said, I wanted to surprise you. Bruce very kindly offered."  
  
It's the first time I'm actually aware of anyone else in the room; Bruce is standing over by the stairway that leads to the upper level and all the bookshelves. He's cloaked in semi-darkness there, and as he steps out of the shadows into the multi-colored light from the big stained glass window, I feel a strange sense of déjà vu as I move forward and extend my hand for the second time, receiving the expected handshake this time, instead of a relieved embrace. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Wayne. Thanks for all your help." I tell him.  
  
An almost-smile, and it runs through my mind that a half-smile is probably all anyone ever gets out of the guy. "It's been my distinct pleasure, Clark. I'm sorry I missed you the other night at Arkham. I understand Lionel made something of a spectacle of himself."  
  
Now it's my turn to smile, the unexpected meeting with Batman running a close second to being the highlight of my week. The actual highlight of my week being Lex sitting behind his desk. "Batman showed up just in the nick of time. Chased him away," I explain.  
  
Bruce nodded. "So I heard. Show-off." He says derisively, and Lex laughs shortly, grabbing my attention again.  
  
"Are you all right?" I ask him again.  
  
Lex nods. "I'm fine, Clark. Drugs out of my system; clean bill of health. I found out I have some.issues..to deal with, but I'll take care of those. First, and most importantly, is my Father. Bruce has kindly volunteered to help me with that, and while we get those wheels in motion, you and I will take care of our own issues."  
  
I deliberately try to ignore any reference to 'our' issues for right now, and a worried frown wrinkles my forehead. I lean over the desk to get closer to Lex. "You aren't going to hurt him, are you? I don't want you to get into any trouble. I don't want them to take you away again, Lex."  
  
He smiles reassuringly. "Of course not," he replies expansively. "I would never hurt my own Father. Not physically. Not myself." He stands now, the hard, determined Lex I always see when he's been bested and wants to get even. "My Father is going to be held accountable for what he's done. For what he tried to make me forget. He failed, and he'll be paying for that failure for a long time to come. Perry White made reference to something awful in my Father's past; something that made Lionel threaten him so badly he had to drop it. Bruce is going to contact Perry, make sure we're talking about the same transgression, and then take Perry under his protection. If Perry really knows what I think he does, my Father's days of freedom are numbered."  
  
"Absolutely," Bruce agrees. "On that note, I'm heading back to Gotham. I'll get in touch with White from there; untraceable to you. If I can't convince him to tell me what he knows, I'll ask Batman to talk to him. He very good at making people talk." He heads for the door to the office and Lex moves to see him out, brushing lightly against my arm as he passes. They talk quietly at the door for a few moments, and then Bruce gives me a final nod, walking away briskly. Lex closes the doors firmly. Locks them. Speaks to me, still studying the doors he has just closed. "Bruce and I have things under control. Between the two of us, I don't think my Father stands a chance. Between you and I, however.."  
  
He turns to face me then, leaning against the doors and studying me appraisingly. I don't want to make him ask.  
  
"It's all true," I blurt out desperately. "Everything you saw. More. I told you why I kept everything a secret from you, but that's over. Ask me whatever you want."  
  
He pushes away from the doors and walks a bit closer to me. I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin, and the only thing saving my own sanity is the warm welcome I got when I arrived.  
  
"I'm not even sure what I want to ask you," Lex admits. "I'm not comfortable discussing this here anyway."  
  
I don't answer him right away, turning in a slow, full circle instead, x- ray vision penetrating everything, looking for objects that shouldn't be there. "It's all right," I assure him. "There's nothing here. We can talk about anything you want."  
  
"You can see.." He doesn't finish the sentence, and I do it for him.  
  
"Through everything," I tell him. "Except lead. That's how I found your room at Belle Reve. Right through the walls."  
  
Sardonic smile then. "That's how you got me out, too, isn't it? Through the walls."  
  
"I couldn't leave you. I had to get you back."  
  
He walks closer then. "You took me to an old warehouse, or something."  
  
"Abandoned factory," I supply helpfully.  
  
"You held me, cried for me. You didn't let them see me being weak."  
  
"I knew you'd hate it if they did. And you're not weak, Lex. You're the strongest person I know. The everything-est person I know."  
  
"You promised you'd never leave me again," he says softly, remembering, and my heart pounds in my chest, because I did. When I was holding him in my arms, when I didn't think he even comprehended anything I was saying, when they felt like the most important words in the world. I step fractionally closer, almost afraid.  
  
"I did, Lex. I'll never desert you again. No matter what."  
  
He looks into my eyes steadily, and he's unreadable. I think he should be able to hear my heart pounding by now. "I may have to hold you to that, Clark," he says seriously. He breaks away from my gaze and runs his glance down the front of my body, assessing, I think, my strength.  
  
"So," he muses, "Superior strength, x-ray vision, superspeed. Have I left anything out?"  
  
I motion at my face briefly. "Eyes. I can burn things with my eyes. Remember the fire in bio class?"  
  
Eyebrows raise incredulously. "That was you? Why bio class? Oh. No, wait, I think I understand that one. You're able to control that, I hope."  
  
I smile, and feel the blush spreading up across my face. "Yea, I learned to handle it all right. It was, um, hormone-related at first, but I can control it now."  
  
"Anything else I should know?" he asks.  
  
"I can't be hurt. Except by the green meteor chunks, but we already talked about that the other night."  
  
He nods slowly. "So we did. That's it?"  
  
I shrug. "Um, except. What you said. At Edge's. You said you knew I wasn't even human. You were right, and that was the worst thing of all. I couldn't stand it if you hated me, Lex. If I disgusted you."  
  
This admission hasn't done anything to calm my pounding heart or the anxiety I can feel building inside, the fear that, despite the hug today, he's not going to want me around anymore; might sell me over to the highest government bidder.  
  
He's shaking his head, coming even closer to me, so the scent of his favorite cologne, the heat coming from his body, the absolute nearness of him, flood my senses. "You can't disgust me, and I would never hate you. But there have to be rules here, Clark. Truth or lies. Here or gone. It's up to you. I'll protect you. Always. I can do that. But in return, you have to do something for me. Honesty. Work with me here, will you?"  
  
"No more lies, Lex. I swear. I'll tell you the whole story, from the very beginning. You already know all the important parts. Whatever you want."  
  
His hand comes up and rests lightly on my arm, heat pouring through the fabric separating our skin.  
  
"I'm not sure you can handle what I want," he says warningly, and the truth flashes through my mind with sudden clarity. Lex has wanted my secrets for a long time. But Lex wants me, too. The knowledge goes right from my brain to my cock, and I shift uncomfortably. I see in his eyes that he knows I have it all figured out, see the tiny fear of rejection there that his body language would never give away. That control comes naturally to him, and heat flares in my stomach as I suddenly think of all the ways I might be able to make him lose that formidable control.  
  
I smile then, knowingly, not at all like the goofy grin I'd had when he called me earlier. I reach over to put my hand on top of his, squeeze slightly to make his grip on my arm firmer, feel my pulse quicken at the sound of his heartbeat speeding up perceptibly. Take his hand from my arm then and bring it up to my lips slowly, kissing the palm softly, inhaling the scent of his skin.  
  
Lex groans, and the sound pulls me toward him unthinkingly.  
  
Tiny bite to taste the skin of his hand then. "I'll never leave you again," I whisper against the sweet warmth, watching his eyes grow darker by degrees, watching him exerting that Luthor control over his body. I press my hips against his softly, just enough to feel the hardness there. Watch his control turn itself off despite his efforts as I bite the skin on the inside of his wrist, feel the heat, taste Lex, whisper again. "Never." Long swipe of my tongue from his wrist to the tip of his index finger, and his eyes close, hips thrust roughly against mine. I can see the tightness of his jaw as he fights another moan I know he doesn't want to voice, but I want to hear it. Bite the pad of his finger. "No matter where you go. No matter what you do." Suck the tip into my mouth, and there it is, ragged and pulled from him, almost forcibly.  
  
He pulls his hand away and reaches up to the back of my head, drags my face down to his, kisses me, and I think my heart is jumping out of my chest, or it might be Lex's, because we're pressed so tightly together now it's hard to imagine ever being apart. He takes his mouth away from mine and I groan from the loss.  
  
"Clark," he's saying against my skin, over and over, as his mouth tracks his way along my jaw, down my throat, hips still pressing against mine, hands moving slowly down across my shirt, feeling the muscles underneath, my own hands on his back, up under his shirt to touch skin, but I can't touch enough of it.  
  
We've been moving slowly, unthinkingly and unerringly toward the desk, and I find myself backed up against it, slide of hard heat on mine stealing my breath and any amount of control I might have thought I had. Lex's control is long gone, the friction on my cock almost too exquisite to endure.  
  
"You said you would have come for me," Lex pants, hands pulling frantically at my shirt to get it out of my jeans. "You're going to come for me now, aren't you?" he asks breathlessly, leaning up to put his lips close to my ear, both of his hands gripping the tails of my shirt and pulling sharply, buttons flying, chest exposed to his touch. My hands tighten on his back as he squeezes one nipple painfully. My cock is already jetting wet heat, as I gasp out my orgasm and feel as much as hear the words.  
  
"Now I owe you three." 


End file.
